


Slipped My Mind

by mankindness



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: M/M, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 10:25:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1465942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mankindness/pseuds/mankindness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes abstinence can only help to bring people closer together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slipped My Mind

It had been a month since Michael and Trevor's last contact. During that time, there had been no phone calls, no texts, and no meet-ups. It wasn't planned, it just seemed to happen.

Trevor had been busy with TP Industries and delivering weapons to those who wanted them. In his opinion, he had good reason for not talking, and assumed Michael was sat sat on his lazy ass in his mansion. Trevor was near Los Santos, so decided to call his old friend on the off chance he hadn't changed his name and moved to a different state.

Pulled up on the side of the road, Trevor scrolled through his contact list until he reached Michael. He called, listening to the shrill ring until it eventually rang out and cut to voicemail.

"Motherfucker," Trevor sighed irritably. It was two in the afternoon, what could the asshole be doing aside from watching movies or yoga?

He gave Michael a minute to ring back in case he'd missed the call, then tried again. When there was no answer for a second time, he left a message.

"Michael, I'm coming for you!" Trevor hissed into the phone, more a threat than a joke.

 

Less than a hour later, Trevor had arrived at Michael's house. The gates opened automatically, and the doubt Trevor had had about Michael not being home diminished when he saw the man's car parked in the driveway. Stepping out of his truck, Trevor squinted at the car's tinted windows to see if Michael really was avoiding him.

The front doors were locked, as expected, so Trevor had to find another way in. He considered all the possible points of entry, and questioned whether to go subtle or obvious. Subtlety wasn't exactly Trevor's style, but crashing his truck through the front doors wouldn't be the best plan either. While he walked around to the back of the house, he hoped he'd find a happy medium. Which he did.

Thankfully, there was no-one by the pool. From what Trevor could see through the locked patio doors, the house was empty, with the exception of Michael, who, Trevor concluded, must have been upstairs.

No preparation needed or hesitation taken, Trevor smashed his fist through a panel of glass near one of the handles. There was a shattering noise, which Trevor hoped remained unheard from Michael's location in the house. He reached his hand in, avoiding the jagged shards, and unlocked the door. His knuckles were cut slightly, and part of his hand was patched with blood, but it didn't bother him.

Trevor crept throughout the house, trying to walk lightly in his boots. Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, he pushed the boots off before he ascended. Trevor checked in every room apart from Michael's bedroom to ensure they were alone. Although he wasn't entirely certain what he'd have done if he'd seen Tracey or Jimmy.

While sneaking into the bedroom, a split-second image of Michael and Amanda in bed displayed in Trevor's mind. It was a torturous, fleeting thought and Trevor almost cursed loudly in response to his brain. If anything, he'd rather have Amanda walking in on _them_ fucking like rabbits.

His eyes fixed on the figure sprawled out beneath the sheets as he crept closer to the bed. Michael's facial expression was relaxed and free of concern while he slept, snoring quietly. Trevor knew that noise. He had heard it many times when they were on the road together- whether it had been sleeping in a car or a motel. It was a sound Trevor had associated with feeling contented after pulling off a heist with Michael, and most likely, having sex with him afterwards.

But at that moment, Trevor didn't feel peaceful. He felt chaotic and ready to fuck up oblivious Michael's day.

In a swift movement, Trevor grabbed and pulled the sheets covering Michael, who immediately woke up with a yell. He instinctively tried to bring the sheets back to him, until he heard an all too familiar voice.

"Surprise!" Trevor boomed, still clinging on. Michael's hold had slackened on his end, his body feeling slightly numb.

"Trevor? What the fuck?" Michael said, bemused, still trying to recover from his disturbed slumber.

"Remember me? Old buddy, old pal?" False humour was thick in his voice, but his eyes were dark with anger. "I was checking to make sure you weren't, you know, dead or something," Trevor sneered. "At least, that's what I assumed when you appeared to completely forget about good ol' Trevor, for, well a month? Or was it nine years? Oh no, it was both,"

That hit Michael where it hurt; he was unsure if Trevor was ever going to forgive him. He got out of his bed, thinking his lower position was putting him at a disadvantage, and that he was looking slightly ridiculous in his bed wear.

"Look Trevor, I'm sorry, it's just..." He averted his eyes from Trevor's, searching his brain for something to say- even though he really had no excuse. "I've been busy," Michael stated, as if that would be enough.

"Oh! You've been busy! That's absolutely fine, then," Trevor replied in a cuttingly sarcastic tone. "I mean, it's not as if I've been kinda preoccupied, making my living, but I still try to call!"

"You haven't called me once!" Michael's level of anger was rising to match Trevor's.

"I did a fucking hour ago," Trevor argued back. Hoping to prove him wrong, Michael picked up his phone from the bedside table and awoke the screen. He saw the notification that indicated a missed call, and sighed, feeling bad.

"My phone was on silent, T. I was sleeping," In his mind, Michael damned his poor excuses.

"Yeah," Trevor said. "I guess being a fat, guilt-ridden old fuck must get to you after a while,"

Michael's expression hardened; his hands squeezed into tight fists.

"Fuck you," Michael retorted, his voice grating. "My life does not revolve around you, Trevor! I have a fucking family!"

"Well they didn't seem to matter much the last time you were getting fucked by me, did they?" Trevor shouted, the following silence almost deafening. Michael's cheeks turned red with anger and embarrassment. "If your precious family is so important to you, shouldn't you be with them? Do you even know where they are?"

Michael knew that his kids were out somewhere in the city, spending his money... but Amanda's absence was unexplained. Although she was probably doing the same as Tracey and Jimmy. He was thankful, though, that they weren't in, to avoid more conflict and confrontation. As if he was echoing Michael's thought, Trevor continued.

"You're lucky they're not here, cupcake. I'd like to see you try to lie your way outta this one. Your best friend-" He made exaggerated apostrophe marks with his fingers, then pointed at Michael with his bloodied hand. "-breaking into your house because you're too much of a lazy fuck to make any effort,"

Michael realised then that it wasn't solely about the past month- that was simply the tip of the iceberg. Trevor had assumed that the guilt after faking his death would be enough to make him care, but that was apparently not the case. So Trevor needed this argument, needed this release, to work out his intense annoyance at Michael. At that point, he didn't care how it would end, as long as he got out of it what he needed. But Michael had had enough.

"That's it! Look, Trevor, _I'm sorry_. I've been an asshole. But that does not give you permission to be an even bigger fucking asshole back to me! You are not my main fuckin' priority!"

"Maybe I fucking should be!" Trevor's voice was harsh. "Because whether you realise you realise, or choose to accept it, I make your life so much more interesting. Hell, I make it worth living,"

"No you don't, you fucking egomaniac! You've got _no right_ to be here, to do this!"

"Go on, then!" Trevor challenged, stepping closer. "Punish me!"

Michael's face changed, his confusion plain as day. Not confusion as to what Trevor had said, but to why he'd said it.

"What?" Michael asked, his voice sounding small in comparison to how it was previously.

"You heard me," Trevor growled. "Make me suffer."

He started unbuttoning his shirt, long fingers deftly popping the buttons from the holes. Once he reached the lower half, he slowed his hands and walked forward to back Michael against the wall.

"No, T," Michael said, bringing up his hands to push Trevor back; although when his fingertips brushed the strip of bare skin that Trevor's open shirt had exposed, he brought them back to his sides. "I'm too fucking pissed at you." Trevor huffed. He leaned onto the wall with one hand and his mouth came close to Michael's ear. The hot breath sent a shiver down Michael's spine.

"Well, use that energy you got for something you'll... enjoy a little more,"

Michael considered. He wasn't completely sure which he'd enjoy more. Yelling at Trevor, getting it all out, would help- though probably only short term. But he didn't know what he might say, in a fit of anger, to push Trevor's buttons. Also, it seemed dangerous for Trevor to switch from furious to horny- then be pushed back to furious again.

Trevor pressed his free hand, hard, against Michael's crotch. Michael sucked in a breath through his teeth. He knew that if he was going to go through with this, he'd have to switch up the dominance.

Not holding back on force, Michael harshly pushed Trevor away, directing his shove towards the bed. Trevor fell on his back, then propped himself up on his elbows with a grin on his lips.

"You can wipe that smug look off your fuckin' face," Michael said, his voice warning.

"Make me."

While he thought, Michael looked down Trevor's body. His shirt had opened even more, a sight that Michael indulged in. His muscled chest first caught Michael's attention, then his eyes were tracing the hair that circled Trevor's belly button, which then trailed down Trevor's stomach and past the waistband of his jeans.

"Come on," Trevor drawled. "You gonna throw me over your knee and spank me, cupcake?" He'd noticed Michael's eyes on him, and where they had settled over his groin. So he moved his hand over that area, squeezing and cupping his half-hard cock to provoke Michael.

Which he did, as Michael went to straddle Trevor's thighs tightly between his own legs. He yanked Trevor's hand away from himself, pinning it on the mattress above his head. After this, Michael took Trevor's other hand, joining it with the restrained one. With one hand he held onto both at the wrists using his strongest grip.

Michael let his other fingers skim over Trevor's torso, liking the way Trevor was desperately trying not to react. It was when Michael began fumbling with the button and zipper of Trevor's jeans, that Trevor held in his breath.

"Hmm?" Michael hummed, noticing the intake of breath. Trevor didn't respond- Michael had finished with the button, and he just wanted for the zip to come down and to _be touched_. But, oh, he wasn't gonna get that easy. Michael had released his grip and leaned down to his suit pants that had been left on the floor from before he slept.

Trevor rested his head back, expecting nothing more than the retrieval of a condom or bottle of lube- so what he saw surprised him.

What Michael held was a soft leather belt, and Trevor's initial thought was a lot more sadistic than Michael's actual plan.

"Take off your shirt," Michael told him. Trevor did so, throwing the garment by Michael.

"You gonna whack my ass with that?" Trevor indicated to the belt, eyebrow arched.

"No," Michael answered, leaning over him. "You'd like that too much." Instead, he wrapped the belt around Trevor's wrists several times, binding them together. He looked at his work, tightened the restraint a little, then returned to his kneeling position. Observing Trevor laid out before him gave Michael a sick sense of excitement- because he knew how much Trevor wanted it, and how willing he was.

Trevor's head popped up again when he felt Michael continue undressing him. His underwear came down with his jeans, too- though only as far down as Michael could pull them, given his position. Michael smirked, pleased, at how hard Trevor was already, seeing as they were just getting down to it.

On one hand, Michael wanted to take Trevor in his mouth, then fuck and work him mercilessly to completion. Therefore prove to him, or at least try to, that _of course_ he hadn't forgotten about him, he knew exactly how Trevor liked it, and overall, that he _does_ fucking care.

Although on the other, more tempting hand, Michael wanted to accept Trevor's 'request'- more like demand- to punish him. Also, he didn't know when he may get this chance again; it was rare for Trevor to be in such a willingly submissive mindset.

Without even touching Trevor's cock, Michael got off of him and stood up.

"On your front," He instructed. Trevor complied, turning over and bringing his trapped hands down under his chest for support, meaning he wasn't lying flat. At some point during the movement, Trevor's dick made contact with the mattress. His breath caught in his throat, savouring the feeling, as he assumed he wouldn't be getting much of that from Michael.

Only part of Trevor's ass was showing, and Michael sought to rectify that by finally pulling his bottoms, along with his socks, off.

"Lift your hips," Michael said. "And I see you rubbin' up on the bed- stop it," He was quite enjoying his power, however short-lived it may be.

This time, though, Trevor didn't abide. He carried on pressing his hips forward and down, wanting to gain that sweet friction.

"Nope," Michael grunted, grabbing his hips and ungently pulling them up. Trevor moaned, feeling exposed- he dragged his knees so down his ass wasn't as high in the air. Michael thankfully allowed that movement.

Trevor felt Michael's weight on the bed for another time, followed by his hands on his ass cheeks. He pressed his palms against them, massaging them and spreading them apart slightly. Right then, Michael wanted to slam himself between those cheeks, and fuck Trevor 'till it hurt. But it wasn't about that. It was about showing Trevor how he could so easily grind him down when he tried to. How little he needed to break him.

That was when he brought his right hand back, before smacking Trevor's ass with some strength. Trevor flinched and exhaled uneasily as the sting on his skin gradually subsided.

"Shit," Trevor muttered as the sensation lingered. He silently wished for more- and Michael delivered. The open hand struck him for a second time, except on this occasion, Trevor didn't wince, but instead reveled in the pain Michael was inflicting upon him.

Trevor wanted to be marked, he wanted it to hurt each time he sat down to remind him of this. The stimulated look on Michael's face as Trevor turned his head, charged with the power he had. All of it caused Trevor to want to rub up on the bedsheets again, or break his hands free and just touch himself. He knew he could have broken away from the restraints, and was curious to see how Michael would've reacted- but there was the risk of pissing Michael off further, and possibly bringing the whole thing to a stop.

Trevor's thoughts were soon disrupted when Michael smacked him again.

"Oh, yeah..." Trevor breathed. The flesh on his ass had reddened and slight twinges of pain remained. "Harder," Trevor groaned, trying to disguise his plea as a demand with the tone of his voice. Michael paused momentarily, wondering how much of his strength to use. He obviously wanted to inflict the right amount of pain onto Trevor, but despite his anger, he didn't have a _huge_ desire to hurt the man.

He did know that Trevor could take a lot, and liked to take a lot, so he didn't hold back that much. Another whack across his ass, and Trevor clenched his cheeks in an attempt to not thrust forward. He let out a shuddering grunt.

"C'mon, make me cry..." Trevor moaned, earning him yet another hard slap. He was aware that he could eventually come just from Michael spanking him- because of how horny he was- although he didn't know how long that'd take and how sore his ass would be after that time. He craved more direct, intense pleasure. He imagined Michael making him wait a while for that.

Michael, meanwhile, was becoming increasingly distracted by his own arousal. Which wasn't ideal, he needed to give his ministrations on Trevor his full attention. He knelt forward, rubbing his clothed cock against Trevor's bare ass. Trevor gasped at the feeling of Michael's erection pressed hard on him.

Michael sat back on his heels, then brought his dick out with his right hand, while his left smoothed over Trevor's skin. He started to pump himself quickly, on the verge of being frantic. He didn't feel a need to prolong the situation.

Hearing Michael masturbating behind him nearly caused Trevor's eyes to roll to the back of his head, along with a desperate moan.

"Fuck," He whispered to himself. A fear of Michael halting and denying his satisfaction further stopped Trevor from rolling over and enjoying the show.

Michael wasn't gonna last. Everything was contributing- especially the dominance, seeing Trevor in this way, and how dirty it all felt. Trevor was already becoming restless, eager for more. The neediness was enough for Michael, who stopped moving while he orgasmed, aiming to come over Trevor's presented ass. Trevor weakly suppressed a loud moan when he felt the hot seed hit his skin, getting close to climaxing himself right there. Michael was breathing heavily as he recovered.

"Oh, Mikey, you filthy fuck," Trevor smirked. He turned his head to look at Michael again. "Hurry the fuck up, though, sugar. Before the year's out, if ya don't mind," He demanded, trying to demonstrate that he still wasn't Michael's bitch.

"Watch your fucking tone," Michael warned, tucking himself back into his underwear. He gave a self-satisfied smile seeing the mess he'd made on Trevor.

Staying on the bed, Michael reached behind him for the bedside table. He slid open the middle drawer and blindly fumbled about for a bottle of lube. He managed to find it quickly, then flicked open the stiff lid with his thumb. He slicked two of his fingers and set eyes on his target.

Michael was slightly apprehensive, seeing as they didn't do it this way round that often, and he wanted to show Trevor that he could easily get him desperate. Yet because some of Trevor's defences were already down, he was reassured it would be even easier.

The tip of Michael's first lubed finger circled Trevor's hole. The man underneath held his breath, anticipating.

"What's that? You expecting something, T?" Michael teased. Trevor frustratedly formed his hands into fists, not answering.

Michael pushed the first finger in- though not very deep at all- and listened out for Trevor's reaction, which was an annoyed huff. Michael's finger went deeper, opening Trevor up. Trevor shifted uncomfortably, not used to the sensation as he was rarely on the receiving end.

The finger entered further, not exactly roughly, although Trevor still cursed, his voice sounding close to angry.

"Christ! Fuck!" He pulsed around Michael's finger. Usually Michael would have asked if Trevor was okay before adding another- this time, though, he just went straight ahead. Trevor bit down on his tongue, attempting to stop the pained grunt from leaving his mouth.

Michael twisted the digits and started up a rhythm that worked for both of them. It was no longer out of Trevor's comfort zone, while Michael still felt in control. Without really trying, Michael grazed Trevor's prostate- causing the man to tighten, and outstretch his arms, letting his head drop between them. After a short moment, he gathered himself.

"Fuck, Mikey! You given up back there?" He goaded him on. In response, Michael slammed his fingers in, hard. Trevor sounded strangled while the pain throbbed, and the pleasure shot through him.

"You gotta remember T, I got my fingers in ya... I can either make this good or bad. Otherwise I might have to do this more often, teach you a lesson,"

"I can't tell if that's a deterrent or an incentive," Trevor replied. Michael chuckled quietly. He nearly pulled out his fingers completely, but Trevor pushed himself up and his ass back to be finger fucked again.

"Someone's close to begging for it," Michael grinned.

"Never," Trevor said, concentrating on getting that perfect angle while thrusting on Michael's fingers.

Michael moved and pushed Trevor down so he was lying flat on his stomach. He once again straddled him, this time on the back of Trevor's thighs. He pressed his palm onto Trevor's clammy back to hold him down, and started to fuck him with the fingers of his other hand again. Only this time, it was so much quicker and harder.

"Yeah, yeah, oh fucking _yeah_ ," Trevor babbled, rubbing his aching cock against the mattress. It felt so good, he could've sworn he'd never been that hard before. "Yeah, Mikey, more- oh fuck me, _more_ ,"

This time it was Michael who obeyed, trying to strike Trevor's prostate as often as possible. He let Trevor hump the bed as much as he liked; seeing him so undone and needy was too fucking hot, especially knowing it was because of him, and for him. He'd definitely have to remember this sight for those lonely nights.

"I'm fucking coming Michael, don't stop though, oh man, don't ever fuckin' stop," Trevor rambled, his brain seeming to not be catching up with his mouth.

Trevor suddenly stopped his movements as he came, body tensing, but words continuing.

" _Oh fuck_ , that's it- fuck- I love you, I love you Mikey, holy fuck Michael, I love you-" His sentence was interrupted by his need to breathe, and because his orgasm had ripped all the energy from his body.

Michael felt light-headed at what Trevor had said. He'd heard Trevor say it a few times before, but he always had it down as something he said in the throes of passion, maybe even to hookers if Trevor ever went with them. He certainly hadn't said it since they'd been reunited. Michael decided to say nothing about it. He swung his leg back over and laid down on the bed next to him.

"Here, lemme undo that for you..." Michael started, until Trevor freed his hands from the belt almost expertly. Michael looked stunned.

"Y'see, that's caring, my friend. Pretending your piece of shit restraint was actually any good," Trevor pushed up and sat on the edge of the bed. "I should go. Wouldn't want lovely Amanda seeing us like this," He said while getting dressed. "You should, er, probably change those jizzy sheets, too, buddy,"

"Yeah, I will," Michael said, sitting up. He felt strange with Trevor's words still on his mind. He hadn't said anything about it. Why had he not said anything? "Trevor..."

"What?" Trevor asked as he put his socks on.

"I'm sorry again, man. I wasn't ignoring you. I just... fuck. I don't know,"

"I know. You're a lazy ass. But I expect that of you," Michael scoffed, glad the anger was out of the way. "Just don't fucking do this again as an excuse for you to boss me around, you conniving shit,"

"Whatever you say, T,"

"Anyway, I'm leaving," Trevor said, once he was dressed.

"Okay, see you later, Trevor," Michael bid his farewell. When Trevor was at the door he looked back.

"You not gonna walk me out?" Michael looked down at his near-naked body, then back at the bed.

"Not really, T. I gotta get rid of those jizzy sheets,"

Trevor shook his head. "Lazy ass," He muttered as he left.

Michael kept listening, hearing the front doors close, then the engine of Trevor's truck starting up, before getting gradually further away. He sighed, then went off in search of fresh bed sheets.

 

A few hours later, Trevor was back home. He was brooding and drinking a beer when he heard a text come through on his phone. Michael.

"Just listened to your voicemail. Guess you really did come for me. LOL"

Trevor chuckled, despite himself.

"Hilarious, asshole. How about another round tomorrow? My place... if you're man enough." He texted back. The response was fast.

"That a challenge? Sure thing, Philips."

Contentedly, Trevor took another gulp of beer. The next day couldn't arrive quick enough.

**Author's Note:**

> (I'm sorry)  
> I can't stop writing for these guys. They're destroying me, goddammit.  
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
